Adventures in Babysitting
by Mlle Patria
Summary: When Courfeyrac ends up watching his niece and nephew for a night, he believes he has everything under control, but with two curious children, a group of student revolutionaries and all of Paris to explore, something is bound to go wrong.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter story so, as usual any suggestions on how to improve are welcome.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Hugo's wonderful characters. **

"Go away!" Courfeyrac hollered at whoever had the indecency to knock on the door to his flat so early in the morning. It wasn't even eleven yet.

Still, the knocking persisted, growing louder and more urgent sounding. Pulling his pillow over his head, Courfeyrac attempted to block out the noise. Surely if someone needed to see him that badly they would come back later. Unfortunately, the pillow did little to muffle the noise and Courfeyrac knew that soon the knocking would reach a level that would make his landlady screech like a banshee.

He gave a groan of surrender and sat up. "Alright, you win. I'm coming." Not bothering to make himself decent, he stumbled toward the door barefoot, still clad only in his nightshirt, and with his hair sticking up in all directions. Grasping blindly at the latch in his half-awake state he finally managed to wrench the door open and came face to face with Jehan.

"Oh dear," squeaked the poet upon seeing the grumpy expression upon Courfeyrac's face and the general state of disarray he was in.

Courfeyrac eyed his friend's brightly colored, floral waistcoat, tricorne hat, and too-long pants that were cuffed to prevent him from walking on them. "I could say the same," he replied rather rudely.

"I've come to pick up the newest pamphlet and bring it to the printer," Jehan said matter-of-factly, ignoring Courfeyrac's rude comment, "I'm sorry to have woken you." He didn't seem very sorry as he followed Courfeyrac into his flat and began whistling an off-tune rendition of Figaro's aria from The Barber of Seville.

"It's here somewhere," Courfeyrac murmured, shifting through the unfinished essays, love notes, and romance novels that littered his desk. "Aha!" he cried, producing the pamphlet from under a pile of crumpled paper. He was actually quite proud of this one. It was a collaboration between himself and Combeferre on the merits of public education

"There you are," he said, handing it to Jehan with a flourish, "Take good care of my baby, you hear?"

"I fear for anyone who lets you take care of children if you often leave your own baby under a pile of pornographic romance novels."

"Oh, how you wound me!" Courfeyrac clutched at his heart and threw himself dramatically into Jehan's arms.

The poet smiled at the only one of his friends whose theatrics rivaled his own. "Perhaps some tender words shall soothe your aching heart," he said, giving Courfeyrac a loving pat on the head before hoisting him back onto his feet, "Your landlady asked me to give this to you. Poor dear feared waking you I presume." Courfeyrac laughed at his harpy of a landlady being addressed in such a way. "From the looks of the handwriting, it's from a lady."

Courfeyrac took the envelope that Jehan offered him, glanced at the elegant, loopy writing and recognized it immediately. "It's from my sister," he exclaimed before ripping into the envelope. He scanned the page quickly and a grin spread across his face. "She's in Paris and wants to see me!"

"I was under the impression you were not on good terms with your family."

"Not with my aristo parents or my haughty brothers," Courfeyrac explained, glancing up from his letter, "but Angélique is different. She's the oldest of us all and when we were young she was rather protective of me, probably because I'm the youngest. She managed to keep me from getting myself into too much trouble with my father." He smiled fondly at a memory that Jehan assumed was some shenanigan he pulled as an adolescent. "She married a baron or something some years back and had a couple of kids. I've not seen the lot of them in probably three years."

Jehan quietly nodded his head as Courfeyrac once again became engrossed in his letter. He stood there awkwardly for a moment before excusing himself. "Enjolras wants these printed today," he said by way of explanation. He softly closed the door behind himself, leaving Courfeyrac in a much better mood than he found him.

It was about two hours later that Courfeyrac found himself being led into a very elegantly decorated parlor. Upon a high-backed chair sat a petite lady in a tasteful powder blue dress. She was bent over her embroidery, hiding her face with ringlets of the same chestnut brown color that Courfeyrac was so proud of. At her feet sat two children, a little girl of about four years old, still plump with baby fat, and a young boy of six or seven who was entertaining his sister by making sounds for his wooden train set while she watched, captivated, hugging her doll to her chest.

The little girl was the first to notice his presence. She gave a cry of glee and toddled over to him, still clutching her doll. She held her arms in the air, asking to be picked up.

"So you do remember me," Courfeyrac laughed, hoisting the toddler up to rest on his hip, "You were so little last time I saw you, ma petite fleur—oof!" The young boy barreled into Courfeyrac, hugging him tightly about the knees and nearly knocking him off his feet. "You've gotten stronger, Henri! Angélique, as beautiful as ever."

The lady swept gracefully across the room and pulled Courfeyrac into a tight hug. "Armand, ma petit frère."

"I'm not exactly little anymore, Angélique," he corrected, as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"That's what you said last time I saw you," she said, poking him playfully in the shoulder, "but you shall always be my little brother. Now come along, Henri, Rosalie, let your uncle sit." She led him over to a chair beside hers and bade him sit before handing him a cup of strong, black coffee.

"What brings you to Paris, Angélique?" Courfeyrac asked after he settled into the chair and the children returned to their games.

"Jean-Claude is here on business and I decided to come as well," Angélique replied, stirring a large spoonful of sugar into her own coffee, "I really do like the country. The open space and fresh air makes it a wonderful place for the children to grow up, but I do miss the people and the excitement of a big city."

"And the social gatherings as well, I imagine," Courfeyrac teased. His sister was always one to get excited when a ball or other event was to be held.

Angélique gave a good natured laugh. "I admit, I've become less fond of such things now that I've had to host a few myself. I actually intend this to be a rather quiet stay. I shall call upon a few old friends, take the children to the Luxembourg, and just enjoy the city. The only big social appearance planned is that Jean-Claude has agreed to take me to the opera tonight."

They sat and chatted for a few hours, discussing life in the country, some of the latest fashions, and whether or not Courfeyrac would ever sit for the bar. For a while, Courfeyrac even found himself on the floor making train noises with Henri as Rosalie clapped her pudgy hands in delight. It wasn't until a knock sounded at the parlor door that Courfeyrac happened to glance outside and noticed that the sun had long ago passed its zenith.

"I beg your pardon Madame, Monsieur," a timid young girl dressed in a plain grey dress squeaked out, "but I have a message, Madame, from Mademoiselle Odaille. She's fallen ill."

"Oh dear, is it serious?" Angélique asked, concerned.

"No, Madame," the girl replied, looking at her feet, "It's nothing too serious, but she will not be able to work tonight." Angélique thanked and dismissed the girl, before settling back in her chair with a sigh.

"Mademoiselle Odaille?" Courfeyrac questioned.

"The children's nanny." Angélique replied, "A lovely girl. Quite pretty too. Surely you remember her?" Courfeyrac shook his head. "Oh, nevermind. She was supposed to mind the children tonight. It's late enough that I doubt anyone else will."

It was one of those moments when Courfeyrac's mouth worked faster than his brain. "I'll do it," he told his sister, before realizing what he was saying.

Angélique's face lit up. "Are you sure Armand? Have you ever minded children before?"

Now that he was aware of what he was doing he was most certainly not sure, but he could not retract his offer as it would make that lovely smile fall from his sister's face. "Of course I'm sure! I am to make an appearance at a meeting in a café, but they can come as well. It's a nice little place, perfectly safe, and I'm sure they'd love to see some of the city."

Angélique looked wary at her children wandering about Paris without her, even if it was under the protective eye of her favorite brother.

"Come on, Angélique," he said, giving her his best disarming smile, "We'll be fine. Besides, it will be like an adventure, won't it?"

"Oui!" Henri exclaimed, clearly excited, "Please, Maman, can we go with Uncle Armand?"

"Pwease?" Rosalie added softly.

"Alright," their mother relented and Henri gave a whoop of delight, "As long as you're on your best behavior. That goes for you as well," she added to Courfeyrac with a playful grin before pulling him into a tight embrace. "Thank you Armand."

"It's no problem at all, Angélique," he assured her, adding silently, "How hard can it be?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh gees. I know I told some of you that I planned on uploading chapter two as soon as I had a good start on chapter three. Well, here's chapter two, and I'm sorry to say that chapter three isn't started yet. I've recently started college and between adjusting to dorm life and the massive amounts of homework I've not had much time for writing. I feel extremely guilty for leaving this for so long, so here's chapter two. I will write and get chapter three up as soon as I can, but I'm afraid I can't make any promises on the time frame. Anyway, enough of me blabbing. On to the story!**

"Where we goin', Uncle Awmand?" Rosalie asked, tugging on Courfeyrac's coat with one gloved hand. Although it was only October Angélique had made the child promise to keep the gloves on until they were once again indoors.

"We are going to a café," Courfeyrac replied, slipping her little hand into his own, "When we get there we'll get the two of you something warm to drink and let Louison make a fuss over how adorable you are."

Henri made a disgusted face at the thought of being cooed over, making it clear that he thought himself far too old for that sort of nonsense. Courfeyrac gave a short laugh and ruffled his nephew's hair. "Wait until you get older," he told the boy, "You'll wish it was so easy to get the ladies to fawn over you." Henri gave his uncle a disbelieving look, making Courfeyrac bite back another laugh.

Courfeyrac broke off his good natured teasing when he felt Rosalie's hand slip from his. He spun around and had a slight moment of panic when he saw the child sprawled out on the ground with her cloth doll lying beside her, before realizing that the worst injury she had received was a skinned knee. Of course, this didn't stop the tears from welling up in the toddler's eyes or the ear-piercing wails that followed.

"You're okay, _ma petite fleur_," Courfeyrac said gently, "I'll kiss it better." The wails softened to sobs as he kissed he lightly kissed the abrasion and into short hic-ups as he wiped away her tears with his thumb. "Better?" he asked.

"Claudette wants a kiss too," was the quiet response as Rosalie held up her cloth doll. Not caring how foolish he may look to a passerby, Courfeyrac planted a quick kiss on the doll's head as well.

"Is she better now?" he asked and Rosalie gave a nod. "Alright then," he said, swinging her up to sit on his shoulders, "We're almost there."

It was less than five minutes later that the trio burst through the front door of the Café Musain, startling Louison who had been scrubbing tables in the empty front room.

"Why Monseiur Courfeyrac!" she exclaimed upon seeing the children, "I wasn't aware you were a father."

"I'm not," he replied, giving a chuckle and causing the plump woman to blush slightly at her mistake, "an uncle, rather. These are my sister, Angélique's, children: Henri and Rosalie."

"And aren't they precious?" she crooned, leaning down to ruffle Henri's hair while he scowled at her. "It's rather chilly outside. Maybe you lot would like something to warm you up after your walk here. Hot chocolate perhaps?"

The children looked to their uncle hopefully and he, of course, consented. "Two hot chocolates and a cup of coffee if you would be so kind, dear Louison."

"Of course," she replied, heading toward the kitchen, "You go on back and I'll bring them out shortly."

Courfeyrac thanked Louison and led the children toward the back room. Jehan was the only one who looked up as Courfeyrac opened the door and ushered the children inside. Leaning his chair back on two legs and tilting his head to see Courfeyrac, who stood directly behind him, he said with a smile, "You know, I didn't mean it as a challenge." However, his voice betrayed the tiniest bit of fear that his friend had done something stupid to prove a point.

Courfeyrac was about to reply with a witty retort, but before he could Enjolras lowered the newspaper he had been reading in order to greet Courfeyrac. He paused momentarily as he caught sight of the children. His ice blue eyes betrayed his confusion, but the rest of his demeanor remained as calm and controlled as usual.

"Courfeyrac," he asked, "why do you have children with you?"

This seemed to draw the attention of the room's other occupants who had earlier been too engrossed in their conversations, dominos games, or, in Combeferre's case, reading to give Courfeyrac a proper greeting.

"This is my niece, Rosalie and my nephew, Henri," Courfeyrac said, hoping this was the last time he had to explain himself, "Their nursemaid is ill and my sister had her heart set on the theatre, so I told her I'd watch them."

"Courfeyrac…" Enjolras began.

"They'll be no trouble," Courfeyrac promised as he flashed what he hoped was his most charming grin, "Now children, be polite and say hello to Monsieur Enjolras."

"Bonjour Monsieur Enjolras," Henri said, giving a slight bow in a perfect example of aristocratic manners. His sister, however, simple mumbled a quick "Bonjour" as she peeped out from where she was hiding behind her uncle, clinging to his trousers for dear life.

"Courfeyrac," Enjolras tried again, "May I please speak to you for a moment?"

"Right then," Courfeyrac said, turning to the children at his feet, "why don't the two of you head over that way and sit next to the gentleman with the long hair? Yes, the one in the alarmingly bright flowered waistcoat and the bunch of violets. I'm sure if you asked nicely he'd let you have one."

As his niece and nephew scurried off to sit next to Jehan, Courfeyrac turned to Enjolras.

"Courfeyrac," the taller man said, "I admire your loyalty to your sister and your willingness to help, but we can't have her children about during a meeting. What if they repeat something they overhear at home? That would mean trouble for us all."

Courfeyrac opened his mouth to protest that his sister was not an aristocratic snob like the rest of his family, but Enjolras continued.

"I know she wouldn't personally take information to the police, but what about her husband, or the nursemaid?"

Courfeyrac smiled at this. Enjolras could read each of Les Amis extremely well; it was part of what made him such a good leader. He understood each member's strengths and weaknesses. He knew that Courfeyrac loved people, all people, and as a result he was not on speaking terms with members of his family that looked down upon those that he loved too well. Obviously his sister was not one of those. Yet, his love of people was also a weakness as it sometimes led him to do foolish things. For example, taking two young children to a secret meeting of a revolutionary organization. Yet, another one of Courfeyrac's strengths was his charisma. With not much more than a smile and a sentence he could convince people to believe and do things that they would never have dreamed of before. It was this skill he put to use as he smiled at his friend.

"They hardly see their father, and the nanny's no gossip." Despite what he told Angelique, he did remember Élisabeth Odaille and she _was_ quite a lovely lady. However, Enjolras still looked slightly skeptical.

"I'll set them up at a corner table," Courfeyrac informed him, "They'll be playing out of the way, and when children play they get engrossed in their own world. They're not going to overhear anything."

Enjolras still looked reluctant, but finally he nodded.

"Brilliant!" Courfeyrac exclaimed before rushing over to the table where Jehan, Henri, and Rosalie sat.

The children seemed to like Jehan a great deal. He had taken one of his violets and put it in the buttonhole of Henri's jacket. He was now in the process of teaching Rosalie how to make a crown out of the remaining flowers.

"Sorry to interrupt your fun, but Enjolras is about ready to get started."

Jehan quickly finished the flower headdress and placed it on Rosalie's head before heading over to sit with the others.

"Alright, now why don't we move over to that table in the corner so we don't mess up Jehan's papers?" Jehan's papers were already a wreck, crumpled and spread all over the table, but the children did not complain and followed their uncle across the room. Courfeyrac helped Rosalie climb into a chair as one hand was occupied with Claudette and he handed Henri a few sheets of paper and a pencil that he had taken from Jehan's table.

"I need you to be well behaved now, okay?" The children nodded their understanding. "Play with your doll, draw some pictures, have fun, but just keep it rather quiet. Oh, look. Here comes Louison with your hot chocolate."

He thanked Louison and warned the children to drink slowly, so as not to burn their tongues, before accepting his own drink and making his way across the room where Enjolras was just calling everybody to order.

**So, what do you think? I love to hear from you!**

**-Patria**


	3. Chapter 3

**I know it's been a long time since I've posted, but never fear. I have no intention of abandoning this story. I just have to write when my schedule and muse both allow, which unfortunately isn't frequently as of late. Also, I went back and made a few corrections to earlier chapters and accidentally posted it as a new chapter instead of replacing it. Therefore I'm very sorry if people got multiple e-mails about updates to the story.**

**Disclaimer: I am not French. I am not male. I am not dead. Therefore, I do not own these characters. **

* * *

Nearly an hour had passed before the children began to grow restless. Bouts of fidgeting often caused Courfeyrac to look up at his niece and nephew, but they would usually think of something else interesting to draw and be entertained once again. However, the children eventually lost interest in their artwork, and just when Courfeyrac was desperately trying to think of something else for them to do, Jehan quietly left the table and walked over to where the children were sitting. He took one of the extra pieces of paper and in less than a minute had folded the children a paper crane. After handing it to Henri with a smile he silently rejoined the rest of the group and the children began attempting to create paper animals of their own.

About twenty minutes later, while debating whether to distribute the newest pamphlets to students, working men, or impoverished women, Courfeyrac felt a tug on his pants leg.

"Uncle Awmand," Rosalie said as she tugged on his trousers once again, "I made this for you." She held up a piece of paper that had been viciously folded and crumpled in an attempt to look like Jehan's origami crane. Nonetheless, Courfeyrac accepted the gift with a genuine smile.

"_Merci, mon fleur_," he said, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, "It's beautiful." He lifted the child and settled her in his lap.

"It's a biwd," she explained in a not very quiet whisper.

"A very lovely bird," Courfeyrac responded in his own stage whisper.

Unfortunately, Feuilly chose that exact moment to exclaim quite loudly, "Joly, I understand that women who have been reduced to prostitution would gain a great deal from public education. However, I don't believe this pamphlet would help them as the point remains, the majority of prostitutes cannot read!"

Before Joly could muster a response, Rosalie, no longer attempting to whisper, asked, "Uncle Awmand, what's a pwostitute?"

Joly choked on the water he had been drinking, Bossuet burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, and Feuilly looked extremely apologetic. Enjolras sent a warning look in Courfeyrac's direction and Courfeyrac desperately attempted to distract the child, hoping that was the only part of the discussion she had heard.

"My goodness!" he exclaimed to his niece, who was still seated in his lap, "We've been here for nearly two hours! I promised your mother I'd show you a bit of the city. How about you, me, and your brother go for a quick stroll in the Luxembourg? What do you say?"

Rosalie nodded enthusiastically and rushed across the room to inform her brother and collect her coat. Once the child had left, Courfeyrac quickly turned to his friends to reassure them.

"I'm quite certain that's all she heard," he informed them, "She was far too engrossed in her paper bird to notice much else."

"So that's what it's supposed to be," Joly said, not unkindly, studying the lump of paper that Courfeyrac sat lovingly on the table.

Quite defensively, Courfeyrac stated, "It's art; it doesn't always have to look like what it's supposed to be."

"It could be representative of the oppressive regime and how it has crushed the people and made their ideals unable to take flight," Jehan chimed in.

"Or it could be the result of a four year old playing with paper," Combeferre responded matter-of-factly. At that moment said four year old called across the room to her uncle and Courfeyrac turned to his friends.

"My lady awaits," he said by way of explanation. He crossed the room and dipped into an exaggerated bow, "Mademoiselle," he said, before turning to Henri and bowing again, "and good Monsieur, would you do me the honor of accompanying me on a stroll through the Luxembourg?" Both children giggled and grasped his hands as they exited the room with a hasty goodbye.

Courfeyrac led the two small children the short distance to the Luxembourg and had to stifle his laughter at the reaction of the children who were seeing it for the first time. Even though the autumn weather had begun to wither most of the flowers, it also turned the leaves on the trees, turning the gardens into a spectacular array of yellows, oranges, and reds. The children gaped in awe at the landscape that, in their perspective, seemed to extend forever.

"It's like a fairyland," Henri exclaimed. At six years old he had just begun to read and was enthralled by the legends of fairies, dragons, and heroic knights. To him the beautiful expanse before him seemed to be just the sort of place that fairies would conduct their magic rites, or that a daring warrior would slay the dragon and save a fair damsel. His sister, to whom he had often regaled the magical tales, was equally awed by the magnificent gardens before her.

"Uncle Awmand," she asked quietly, "Do faiwies wive here?"

"I think they might," Courfeyrac answered. While others might disagree with encouraging such ridiculous notion, Courfeyrac saw no harm in letting children escape into fantasies. He figured they would have to face the harsh truths that life threw at them soon enough. "However," he continued, "I'm no expert on fairies. Henri, you've read lots about fairies, haven't you? Tell me, where do fairies normally live?"

"Well," Henri began, becoming quite serious, "They like the outdoors, but not the open. They have to have places to hide because they don't like people to see them. I don't know what they eat, but they need water. Sometimes they might live in trees, if they have wings, but I don't know if all of them have wings. There's lots of trees around here, but how will we—"

"Wait a minute!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, successfully cutting his nephew off before he suggested that they climb trees. From experience Courfeyrac knew that endeavor would end badly. "You say that fairies need water, food, and somewhere to hide?" Henri nodded enthusiastically. "Then I think I know just the place!"

Grinning, he led the two ecstatic children towards the Fontaine de Medici and the old orangery near it. It was a bit of a walk, but the children were too excited to notice or complain. Rosalie seemed entranced as the Palace de Luxembourg loomed nearer, but soon her attention was diverted. As they approached the fountain Rosalie gave a squeal of delight and Henri exclaimed, "Fairies _must_ live here!"

With Courfeyrac's direction and help they began to carefully search through the flower beds and around the fountain for any trace of the mythical creatures. "Maybe we should look for little footprints," Courfeyrac suggested, "that way we can see where they may have gone." As he said this he inconspicuously trailed his fingers along in the dirt, leaving tiny footprint like marks in the flowerbed. A few minutes later he gave a dramatic gasp upon "discovering" the footprints.

"What is it?" Henri questioned.

"I'm not quite sure," Courfeyrac responded, "Come and look."

The two children scurried over, their faces bright with excitement. Rosalie leaned down to examine what her uncle was pointing at, her brother peering over her shoulder.

"Footpwints!" she shrieked excitedly, clapping together her mitten clad hands.

"I want to see!" Henri cried, and his sister moved aside so that he could. After just one glance at the ground he let out an excited shout as well. "They are footprints! Uncle Armand, fairies do live here!"

Courfeyrac chuckled in delight at the awe on the children's faces. As he stood and brushed the dirt from his knees a solitary figure dressed in black caught his attention.

"Marius!" he called, and the young man turned. "You two keep looking, alright?" Courfeyrac told the children, "I won't be long." He then jogged over to his friend, who stood not far from where the fairy hunt was occurring.

"Marius, how are you?" he greeted the shy young man.

"Quite well, thank you. Er…Courfyerac, what exactly is it that you are looking for?" he gestured to where the children were still searching under bushes and behind trees in their quest.

"Fairies," Courfeyrac said simply, before chuckling at the confused look on Marius's face. "I'm minding my niece and nephew," he explained, "and they claim that this is just the sort of place where one can find fairies." Marius nodded, though he still looked confused. "And what are you up to?" Courfeyrac asked.

"Just…um…going for a walk," the young man stuttered out, blushing slightly.

"In your best attire?" Courfeyrac questioned, before an enormous grin made its way across his face. "There's a lady. Isn't there?" Marius tried to deny it, but Courfeyrac continued on, "There is! Who is it then? A grisette? A nursemaid?"

However, Marius didn't have to answer, for at that moment, he froze and Courfeyrac followed his gaze. It fell upon an older gentleman with snow white hair and a lovely young lady with dark brown curls mostly hidden under a bonnet. They sat together on a bench, the girl reading aloud from a book she held in her pale white hands.

"Ah! Mademoiselle Lanoire!" Courfeyrac exclaimed and Marius turned an even deeper red. "She is quite lovely, but that father of hers seems to be quite protective. I'd tread carefully if I were you."

Courfeyrac gave the now scarlet Marius a friendly pat on the back and a smile before moving to rejoin his niece and nephew in their hunt for fairies. However, as he turned back toward the Fontaine de Medici he felt his eyes grow wide and his heart thump painfully in his chest. The great old fountain and carefully arranged flowerbeds were just as he left them, but Henri and Rosalie were gone.


End file.
